


Not for the Novice to Attempt, Or The Mrs. Mann-Formsby Job

by scintilla10



Category: Leverage
Genre: Character of Color, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-20
Updated: 2009-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-03 11:05:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scintilla10/pseuds/scintilla10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You want <i>Parker</i> to host a formal dinner party for elite society?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not for the Novice to Attempt, Or The Mrs. Mann-Formsby Job

Parker was concentrating on unlocking the safe (a simple dial combination), so she was only listening with half an ear to the conversation happening over the comm. But when Alec said, "Whoa, whoa, _whoa_," his tone of voice made her pause and pay attention. "What is she saying?" Alec went on. "_What_ is she saying? A dinner party?"

"Uh, Sophie," said Nate, "you're going off-script here."

"Aaaand now she's letting him leave," Alec said. "Cause that makes perfect sense. Sophie, why are you letting him leave?"

"Parker, how's that safe coming?" Nate said.

Oh right, the safe. "Nearly there," Parker said, and ignored them again so she could spin the last dial and plant the incriminating photograph inside. Easy as pie.

She tuned back in after she made her exit. Everyone was still arguing.

"I don't think you've taken into account how much work it is to host a formal dinner party," Eliot was saying. "Trust me. It's work."

"Well," Sophie cut in smoothly. "How else were we going to get him out of the house for the whole evening?"

"We could lie," Parker said helpfully. After all, that got them out of most things.

She swung into Nate's apartment through the bathroom window and switched her comm off as she walked into the living room. Nate, Alec and Sophie were already there, mostly glaring stubbornly at one another.

"Okay, okay, a dinner," Nate was saying, in a way that made Parker think he was coming round to the idea. "Hmm."

"Okay, look," said Alec. "Supposing we do host this dinner party or whatever --"

"Not feasible," Eliot said, as he came in through the front door.

"But _supposing_ we do. Who the hell is this Mrs. Mann-Ford-person?"

Everyone looked at Sophie.

"Mrs. Mann-Formsby is one of the most respected hostesses in upper society," Sophie said. "And the mark is already drooling at the prospect of an introduction."

"Hmm," Nate said.

"So . . ." said Eliot. "We steal her dinner party?"

"No," said Sophie and paused dramatically. "She doesn't exist."

"What?" said Parker and Eliot at the same time.

"And you've lost us," Alec said.

"She's a favorite character of mine. She pops up now and then. She's really developed a lot of depth and mystique over time." Sophie smiled fondly.

"But," said Parker, "you're already Althea Thomson. I mean, to the mark, anyway. How can you be Mrs. Man-Foamy _and_ Althea Thomson?"

"Mann-Formsby," Sophie corrected. "And _I've_ never been Mrs. Mann-Formsby."

Everyone looked confused.

"I've never had to be her," Sophie said. "She's always been a story. A myth. A legend."

"Oh, I gotcha," Alec said, looking impressed. "She's your Keyzer Soze."

"Her what?" said Parker.

"Wait a minute here," Eliot said. "How is a _myth_ supposed to host a dinner party?"

"Well, she won't be a myth any longer," Sophie said and smiled in a disconcertingly encouraging way at Parker.

"What?" said Parker.

"Parker?" said Eliot in disbelief.

"Oh," Nate said.

"You want _Parker_ to host a formal dinner party for elite society?" Alec demanded.

"I already know a dinner we can steal!" Sophie said cheerfully. "We're on for tomorrow evening!"

Nate disappeared, muttering. Alec and Eliot started arguing over formal dinner courses. Parker wondered slightly hysterically if she had become so good at acting that no one could see her panicking.

Apparently not because Sophie sat down next to her and said, "Don't _worry_, Parker. I know Mrs. Mann-Formsby inside and out; I'll tell you everything you need to know. And I'll be right there with you."

"Sophie," Parker hissed, "this is not what I'm good at."

"I know," Sophie said, and she had that look on her face that Parker recognized as _determined_ and _stubborn_ and also_ overly dramatic_. "But I promise you, Parker, a bit of research and you'll breeze through this."

Parker doubted that because from the way Alec and Eliot were still arguing about place settings and menus it sounded like it was complicated and finicky. And Parker couldn't remember the last time she'd even sat down to eat a meal, much less been to something that could be described as a _formal dinner party. _

But -- research. She could do research. Alec did it all the time. It was just like casing a place for a job. Except with more reading. And computers. And fewer costumes.

Parker didn't like the internet very much because she found that it often lied to her, so that night she broke into the library (it was ridiculous how easy it was to infiltrate a public building) and found a section that had books on etiquette. The person with the most books was someone called Emily Post. Parker thought that sounded promising. Plus, Emily had a whole chapter called "Formal Dinners."

By the time she went to bed that night, she'd discovered that Emily Post was leading a guerilla war on bad manners all by herself.

~~~

"Okay, Parker," Alec said over the comm. "Time for your grand entrance."

Parker glared hard at the door.

Be Mrs. Fann-Mormsby. She could do this. Be Mrs. Fann-Mormsby. Trust the character. Remember good manners.

And the right cutlery.

Right.

"Parker?" Alec said.

"Yes," she said.

"I'll be here. Nice and easy, okay? You can do this."

"You won't be _here_ here," Parker objected. "Except for in my ear."

"That is not entirely inaccurate," said Alec. "But --"

"Never mind. I'm going in."

When she opened the door to the dining room, the small talk died down a little and people looked at her kind of expectantly. There were a lot of people. Parker had no idea where Sophie had found them all.

"Uh," said Parker, and then remembered Emily's advice on greetings. "How-_do_-you-do!" she said loudly. And then added: "Welcome!"

There was a bit of silence, broken only by a choked sound from Alec over the comm, and then Sophie came forward. "My dear Mrs. Mann-Formsby! I'm _so_ delighted to see you again. Please let me introduce you."

Then there was a lot of _how do you do_-ing and handshaking. Parker made sure to look people in the eye and keep a firm grip. This seemed to surprise the little old lady with the limp wrist, but she thought she passed with everyone else.

They adjourned to the table for dinner.

Parker, as the hostess, was seated at the head of the table. The mark was sitting near her, but Sophie was way at the far end, practically out of hearing distance, and entertaining her half of the table with an easy and natural charm. Parker was probably expected to do the same. Except Emily had made a big deal about how to conduct conversations at dinner parties. She had been _very_ strict about it. They were supposed to speak with the person on their right for ten minutes, and then the person on their left for ten minutes, and then back to the right again. It was a system. So no one felt left out. Or something.

But these people were not following this rule _at all_. At first Parker tried to organize them into pairs, but that didn't go over very well. Also, the man with the Rolex that Parker firmly intended to get her hands on before the end of the evening seemed determined to speak only with the woman in the glasses and the impressive cleavage seated next to him, and the little old lady persisted in conducting a conversation _across_ the table.

Emily would probably call it a disaster.

Parker was ignoring the eyebrow-wriggling Sophie was throwing in her direction on the grounds that it was indecipherable, when Alec said in her ear, "What are you even -- Just leave them to their own conversations! Eat your appetizer."

Parker wished she'd taken notes or brought Emily's book along to refer to during dinner. Also, her appetizer tasted like Styrofoam. And spinach. She spit it into her napkin. Probably no one noticed.

The soup course passed without incident. Well, almost. Eliot let out a bitten-off swear word over the comm at one point, which, it was eventually revealed, was because the lawn sprinklers had turned on unexpectedly. "Oops," Alec said, sounding unrepentant. Eliot sputtered.

"Hardison, are you even paying attention?" Nate demanded. He was breaking into the mark's boss' office while Eliot got into the mark's house.

"Hey, I am doing many, many things at once here!" Alec protested. "Y'all should be praising my technical expertise."

"Just -- pay attention," Nate said.

"Oh, believe me, I am paying _attention._ And, incidentally, _I_ was not the one who wanted to make Parker Miss Hostess Extraordinaire."

"Hey," Parker objected. "I didn't ask to be the legend!"

Unfortunately, she'd spoken out loud. Her end of the table was now staring at her, looking confused.

Sophie coughed loudly and wiggled her eyebrows again.

"Humph," the little old lady said.

"Well," the woman next to her said, giving Parker a strange look. "As I was saying, it's funny that so many people keep getting memberships when the exhibits are so terribly maintained."

It wasn't that funny, but that did seem to be the punchline, so Parker laughed encouragingly. No one else seemed to think it was funny either and they mostly just sat there. It was pretty rude, actually. Emily would have a lot to say to them on the subject of tact.

"Don't these people have libraries?" she muttered, but Alec just made a confused snort back her, which meant he was probably busy helping Eliot break into a wall safe or getting Nate through a security system. Either of which _she_ could have done all by herself if she'd been allowed to do her own job.

"I'm delighted to have the opportunity to speak with you, Mrs. Mann-Formsby," said the mark, leaning towards her as the fish was served, so Parker ended up giving him her memorized spiel on the fake company Alec had set up. He seemed hooked.

Hooked. During the fish course. Ha.

"That sounds like an intriguing offer," said the man with the Rolex. He was sitting on the other side of the mark. "Are you extending it to other potential investors?"

"No, no," said Nate suddenly in her ear. "No one else can opt in, Parker!"

"No!" Parker snapped and the man with the Rolex looked a little shocked. "And you shouldn't eavesdrop on other people's conversations," she added.

They served the main course next, and Parker turned to the woman on her left and said, "So, been on any good dates lately?" (Acquaintances and trips to the theatre were on Emily's list of approved conversation topics. Parker assumed this meant dating, though she wasn't personally familiar with the concept.)

"I -- what?" said the woman. "I'm married!"

Parker stared at her encouragingly, but the woman didn't seem to have a follow-up.

Alec made a noise that sounded like a groan and a laugh mashed together. "Maybe try not to make the first move in the conversation, okay?"

Parker pretended to drop her napkin and, when her face was level with her knee, hissed, "Dating is an acceptable topic of conversation!"

"Married people do not date! Except in certain pre-arranged circumstances that have been mutually agreed upon by all parties. Or if they're having an affair, in which case you probably shouldn't bring it up at the dinner table."

Parker drew in her breath to reply but found herself suddenly face-to-face with a crouching waiter. She had to restrain herself from unleashing some of her Eliot-moves on him. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked.

"Nope! No," said Parker, clutching the napkin and straightening. "Nope, everything's fine, I found it!" She held the napkin up triumphantly so everyone could see. Only the mark looked impressed. The little old lady frowned.

"Let me get you a fresh napkin," the waiter said, and tried to take it from her. They conducted a mini-wrestling match before Parker finally gave up and let him win. Mostly because Sophie was screwing her face up again at the other end of the table. It made her look like a constipated ferret.

Parker ignored her. The (apparently married) woman next to her stared rather pointedly away from Parker. Parker decided to ignore her too.

"It's nice to see the weather staying so nice this autumn," said the man with the Rolex with something approaching desperation. He addressed this primarily to the cleavage of the woman in glasses.

"It rained yesterday," Parker said, when no one (not even the cleavage) seemed inclined to answer. "Also, you're using your fish fork," she added to the mark helpfully, and took a large mouthful of dessert.

~~~

"So now your Mrs. Manson-Family has a reputation for being some kind of crazy person," Eliot said to Sophie, flopping down in an armchair. He was still a bit damp from the sprinklers. "I hope you're happy."

"It's Mrs. Mann-Formsby. And she's an _eccentric_," said Sophie. "It makes her more intriguing, don't you think?"

"No," Parker muttered.

"Her legend will only improve," Sophie said, cheerfully.

The dinner was over and the guests had departed, well fed and mostly happy. In the meantime Eliot had scouted the mark's house and turned up several file folders (as well as a surprising secret fetish) that had Alec grinning with malicious delight. Even Nate seemed generally happy with the proceedings, despite not getting much from the boss' computer, because Sophie had persuaded the mark into writing the first cheque before he left.

"Here." Alec handed Parker a bowl of popcorn with her favourite artificial nacho cheese flavour powder on top. It was a vibrant orange. Eliot made an _ew_ face when he saw it, so Parker threw some popcorn at his head. It landed in his hair. He scowled at her.

"Tomorrow, Parker, I need you to break into Harbor Towers," Nate said, already busy fine-tuning the next stage of the con.

Parker grinned. Breaking into Harbor Towers meant she'd probably need her rappelling harness. Things were looking up already.

Plus, thanks to the dinner party, she now had a Rolex, a diamond necklace, four wallets, a gold cigarette case, and a pretty red scarf in her backpack.

Parker's fingers brushed against Alec's as they both reached into the popcorn bowl at the same time and Parker felt warm and happy. "I think Emily would be proud," she said in satisfaction.

"Who's Emily?" said Alec, but Parker just grinned happily at him and wiped nacho cheese powder onto Nate's couch.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://innie-darling.livejournal.com/profile)[**innie_darling**](http://innie-darling.livejournal.com/) in the [Fandom Free-for-All](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/422866.html), who requested _Parker reads Emily Post._ Title from Emily Post.


End file.
